


Not a Sight for Sore Eyes

by actually18pigeons



Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Steve McGarrett, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Whump, Whumptober 2020, day 1: hanging/shackled
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26754832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actually18pigeons/pseuds/actually18pigeons
Summary: Day 1 of Whumptober 2020 - hanging/shackled. Danny finds Steve in a basement, bruised and bleeding. Do I explain how he got there? Nope! But there’ll be whump! (and comfort in coming chapters)
Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941847
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Not a Sight for Sore Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Day 1 it’s my first Whumptober, my goal is 500 words for each prompt but the four I’ve written so far are at least 1k. Might continue these after the challenge is over but who really knows.

"Ready? 3... 2... 1..." Danny counted down before kicking down the door, SWAT filed in before him, clearing the room. 

“I’ve got him!" A shout came from somewhere upstairs several seconds later. 

Heart hammering, Danny sprinted up the stone staircase, gun at the ready, despite trusting that they had the room under control. He took the scene in, a small, damp, empty room, a metal ring hanging from the ceiling, but other than the SWAT guys, the only other person was James Caron, handcuffed, pressed against the floor. Danny slung his rifle over his shoulder, kneeling down beside the restrained man, fury barely contained in his voice, “Where is Steve McGarrett?”

Caron just smiled, thin lips curling up over tobacco stained teeth, “Nowhere you’ll ever find him.” 

Danny grabbed the back of his hair, roughly pulling his head up, until their eyes met, “I repeat, Where is McGarrett?” more insistent, any semblance of patience quickly disappearing from his mind. Caron grinned again, biting down on something. His eyes closed, froth forming at his mouth. "No no no no!" The only trail to Steve had died, in his control, by poison, suicide. Danny stared in horror as his leads body went limp, eyes still open, staring tauntingly at him. 

His breath caught, Steve might die, all because he couldn’t keep one man alive. He might already- no he couldn’t go down that road. Danny left the other men in the room to deal with the body as he scanned the room one last time before trudging back down the staircase. 

He scanned the bare room he had entered only minutes before, eyes catching on the small, understated woven rug in the corner. It was probably nothing, in any other case Danny wouldn’t have given it a second thought, but they had such clear intel that Steve would be in this building. He slid back the carpet with one foot, gun warily at the ready. 

Underneath was exactly what he had been hoping to find. A wooden door, sloppily painted gray to blend in with the stone floor, with a single copper ring to pull to open it. His pulse raced, “I’ve got something!” Within seconds the SWAT team was behind him, guns trained on the door. Danny pulled it open, revealing darkness. Several flashlights were quickly switched on, illuminating a wooden ladder heading down into the hidden room. 

“Detecive let us,” one of the SWAT men took the first step forward, holding the door open as him and a few other men carefully began to descend the ladder. Once the ‘clear’ call had sounded, Danny once again holstered his weapon and began the climb down. 

When he got downstairs he saw a sight he hoped never to see, a sight that would haunt his nightmares for months to come. It was Steve. Steve, hung from the ceiling, broken and bleeding. 

“Steve?” Danny’s voice cracked as he closed the space between them, hands reaching towards him but not making contact with the bloody mass that was his torso. The sight just got worse upon closer inspection. Burn marks littered his bare chest, wrists bleeding sluggishly against the cuffs suspending him from the ceiling. Danny took in the swollen fingers, the bruises, the newly scabbed cuts on his face. His head hung against his chest, dried blood caked on his chin. A cloth was crudely duct taped over a wound on his hip.

Danny gently raised Steve’s head, not wanting to further anger his wrists, fingers quickly finding his pulse point. The beat was slow, barely present under his fingers, but still there. “Steve? Hey buddy, time to go home.” He cupped a hand behind his neck, gently running a thumb over his cheek, a gesture they had both done so many times, but never like this. His breath hitched, but his eyes remained closed. 

Returning to his sense Danny yelled, "Alright! Let's get him down!" Steve’s bodyweight was hanging from his wrists. His toes barely brushed the floor, shoulders straining, one was swollen the joint sticking out at a strange angle. Several of the SWAT men reached up to support him as the leader cut the thick chains attaching the man to the ceiling. 

Danny and several other men supported him as the restraints fell away. Instantly Steve’s body sagged against them, his bloody forehead coming to rest against Danny’s shoulder as he braced himself against the sudden weight. Steve’s face shifted, a quiet groan escaping his bloody lips. They lowered him gently to the floor, supporting his neck and shoulders, gently guiding his arms down to his sides. Danny kneeled next to his head, gently tapping his face again, thanking the lord when those dark eyelashes fluttered, unfocused pupils scanning his face. 

“Hey Steve, we’re here now, we’re gonna get you out, you’re gonna be okay.”

"Dah.." he breathed.

"Yeah babe, I'm here, the SWAT team is here, we're getting you out of here."

"Danno you oka..." his questioned dying on his lips as he re-wetted them.

"Steve I swear you look like absolute shit, and you're asking me if I'm okay?" His face crumpled with confusion, so Danny gently squeezed his arm, "yeah I'm okay." 

Steve smiled slightly, fingers twitching towards Danny. But his smile morphed into a grimace as his movement jostled his shoulder. 

“Sorry to interrupt detective, but we should get him out of here, we don’t know what internal injuries he could have.” 

“‘m fine,” Steve whispered, arm moving as though he planned to prop himself up to prove his fine-ness. 

“With all due respect commander, I don’t think you’re in a position to make that judgement call, we’re going to find a way to stabilize you, but it won’t be easy or painless to try to get your up that ladder and out the door.” It was then that Danny’s attention returned to the room around him, taking in the shoddy ladder again, realizing this is the kind of room you put people into, not expecting to take them out again. 

The medic of the group stepped forward now, hands skimming over Steve’s body as he felt for bruises and misplaced bones. 

“We’re going to have to grab a body board, I think we can strap him to it and pull him vertically through the door. It’s not ideal but it should work, but it won’t be easy.”


End file.
